


paint me a picture of (your) lips

by krizzlesandblues



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krizzlesandblues/pseuds/krizzlesandblues
Summary: Lips. Lips on a canvas, Song Minho.But not Seungyoon's, for the love of peaches.





	paint me a picture of (your) lips

Jinwoo smiles around the jelly juice he's sipping. "I'm telling you, Song Minho," he wags a finger teasingly, "it's just a matter of time before you give in—"

"Give in on what?" Minho grouches, grabbing a jelly juice for himself from the fridge.

"You. Kiss," the older shrugs. "Kissing those soft, plump lips against your forehead weeks ago."

"Hyung," Minho sighs heavily. "T'was just a joke. Joke! Should I define what a joke is?"

"I know what a joke is, thank you. But I also know that you _actually_ wanting to kiss Yoonie is no joke."

"Hyung." A sip of his jelly juice. Was this apple? Or strawberry? "Joke. Only a joke."

Strawberry, Minho guesses. Almost a darker shade of soft pink.

Soft pink. Soft pink lips. Soft pink lips against his forehead on that radio show—

Jinwoo grins, seeing his expressions. It's a blinding sight, an overwhelming feast to the eyes. But definitely mischievous and knowing. "Stop lying, Song Minho. I won't stop you, don't worry." Jinwoo pats Minho's shoulder.

Minho gives up.

*

Minho does not seem to know the concept of sleep. Or its very existence, probably.

His hands are always busy every hour of every day—either pumping beats or checking out new songs or writing random lyrics or sketching on his notepad or playing with his paints on a large canvas or clicking away with his cameras…

Distractions, he calls them sometimes. Hobbies. Just to pass the time. Just to keep his mind away from things he'd rather not think.

But mostly, aside from composing songs, most nights he paints in his studio. Dressed in a loose shirt and worn sweatpants, he lets his imagination guide his hands and brush, letting out all his ideas through acrylic and oil. Sometimes he uses other media, sometimes he just sticks to his paints. There are times that he would skip the paints and go back to his pencil.

And for the sake of feeling a little more homey—or let his ideas be a little wilder—he lights up a stick, takes a long drag and feels the perverse, minty warmth diffuse in his system, then starts to paint.

Which is pretty much the usual scenario whenever Seungyoon visits him.

And when Seungyoon does, he does his best not to choke on his own smoke.

*

Seungyoon doesn't knock whenever he drops by Minho's studio; the latter had always told him to drop the knocking and just enter, as he knows it will be just Seungyoon or any of the producers who'll come by.

[ Sometimes Seungyoon regrets not doing so, as he is always greeted by the acrid, minty smell of cigarette smoke. Admittedly, he doesn't like inhaling them—health hazard, Seunghoon had reminded him—but at the same time, it was an assurance that it was just Minho and nothing else.

Just Minho hunching over his computer, or busy with his newest artwork. Just Minho lazing around and listening to new songs Seungyoon has never heard.

Just Song Minho. No one else. ]

"Oh, hey," Minho greets him, turning his head to glance at the newcomer. "What, new song incoming—ah, shit. Sorry."

Minho's aware of Seungyoon's sort of dislike towards cigarettes and the smoke, as well as his saintly tolerance.

"No, it's fine, it's fine," Seungyoon dismisses, even though Minho has already butted off his cigarette on an ashtray. "Just need extra ears. I don't trust myself a bit."

The rapper chuckles, eyes crinkling and his lip piercing twinkling under the fairy lights. "Since when were you so distrustful of yourself, Kang Seungyoon?" he teases lightly.

"Shut up," the vocalist retorts, rolling his eyes and tossing a flash drive at him. "Audio file 321."

"Copy," Minho inserts the drive into the port, finds the file, and lets the computer's speakers play it for him.

Upbeat. A WINNER signature that will never fade over time. A bit too happy. Or a bit too retro-ish?

But definitely good and easy to the ears. As always of Seungyoon.

"Just needs a little tweaking," Minho adds aloud. "Maybe Seunghoonie-hyung and I can work on that part?"

"I think it would be wise to summon Jinwoo-hyung," Seungyoon sighs, plopping on a chair beside him. "Ugh. I lack imagination."

"I can give you some~" Minho suggests, grinning.

About a kiss, for example, Minho thinks.

"No, thank you. I can't sing aliens, for the love of god."

"Huh. Coming from the resident lovesick puppy."

"Huh—_naui a~nak~naeeee~_," Seungyoon smirks, singing. That earns him a smack in the head, and laughter ensues.

"This is good, though," Minho tells him, bobbing his head up and down to emphasize his point. "But like what I said, just needs a little polishing and we're off to the lyrics."

"Got it."

Seungyoon then lets himself relax in his chair (forget the fact that all those Sophie Ano's scare the living shit out of him; why does Minho like them so much?) and takes a good look around the studio. It's then he notices the new paintings hanging around the walls, and all the stuff he hadn't seen before.

That, and a new artwork about to be finished.

"Another one?" Seungyoon notes, pointing on a heart-shaped canvas covered in yellow paint.

"Yeah," Minho grunts, clicking away on his computer. A song just to help him finish that painting. "Mental block."

"That's strange, coming from you."

"My paintings aren't overnight projects all the time, Seungyoon," the rapper mutters.

A new song plays around them through the surround speakers. Something slow. Definitely alternative rock. Or a genre Seungyoon isn't too familiar with.

_what time you coming out?_

"The 1975," Minho supplies, seeing Seungyoon's curious expression. "A passing suggestion from a friend."

"Hmm," Seungyoon hums. "But back to your heart-shaped yellow canvas. Mental block?"

"Dunno what to paint," Minho frowns, his pierced lower lip jutting out. "Don't dare suggest sceneries—I kinda suck at that."

"Uh...your abstractions?" Seungyoon tries.

"Pictured it already. Sucked big time."

"Leave it yellow and call it art?"

"That's just plain _plain._"

"A heart...hmm…" Seungyoon thinks for a long moment, although he isn't much inclined into art like Minho. "Something about, I don't know, love? I mean, well, it's a heart-shaped canvas…"

"Now that's cheesy!" Minho cringes.

"Coming from someone who literally sang about break-ups and not getting over them—"

"Fine, fine, love, right," Minho cuts him off, annoyed. "And what about that?"

"I don't know!" Seungyoon shrugs. "You're the creative person here, not me."

"Aish," Minho huffs, twirling a brush between his fingers. "Love. Huh."

_i don't wanna be your friend i wanna kiss—_

His eyes land on Seungyoon's plump, pink lips for a short second. Pillowy, and definitely soft. He'd felt them when the vocalist had given him a forehead kiss on a radio show.

Soft. Soft pink lips. Soft pink lips on a yellow background.

"Huh," Minho mutters to himself, turning to his canvas.

Not a bad idea, probably. Definitely weird and will win quizzical reactions. But not a bad idea to consider.

Definitely better than probably swooping down and try to know whether Seungyoon's mouth was like strawberries—

Lips. Lips on a canvas, Song Minho. 

The rapper picks up a brush and dances his fingers across the cans of paints on his desk.

"Okay, looks like it's my cue to leave," Seungyoon says in a sing-song tone, standing up. He knows Minho prefers to be by himself when he paints sometimes—and Minho knows that he knows.

Still, "It's a free progress painting show for you, Seungyoon," Minho says.

Progress painting show or a possible kissing booth. Maybe.

"Nah, gotta do that polishing as you'd suggested," Seungyoon says. "Show me that painting once it's done."

"Just expect a heart-shaped canvas spilled with yellow paint, Kang Seungyoon."

Seungyoon's echoing laughter is the last thing he hears from the vocalist as the latter leaves the studio.

Yes, just a yellow heart, Minho thinks, trying to convince himself not to mix white with red and picture Kang Seungyoon's pouting lips, as if about to _kiss—_

*

[ It's always a sight to see when Minho paints something out of a blank canvas and a messy palette of paints. It's magical, Seungyoon always thinks, wishing he can paint, too. But he makes do with the pictures. 

Of places, of random sights, of his dog, of his co-members, of their candid smiles on a random day or on a schedule.

Of Minho when they take a walk outside.

Seungyoon wonders if a picture can be considered art when the subject is art itself. 

_don't fall in love in that moment_

Seungyoon grunts, rolling his eyes at the song playing on his phone. Yeah, sure. Just don't. ]

*

Minho groans, three hours later.

_and i always wanna die, sometimes_

Sometimes Minho thinks the songs on his current playlist hit him too deep—and this is just one of them.

He lets the painting be known, anyway. It's what he'd told Seungyoon.

*

Seungyoon snickers, seeing the painting.

"Now that's some plump pair of lips Minho painted," Seunghoon remarks, peeking over Seungyoon's shoulder as the younger looks at the picture of the painting. "In any case, Seungyoonie, were you the willing model?"

Seungyoon just laughs and shakes his head. "Dunno. And anyway, am I the only one with such lips, hyung?"

"I'm not sure if he'd considered Zico as an inspiration, but the shape. _That_ shape. Kang Seungyoon, you were _definitely_ the model. I'm betting Haute's dog food."

The song that was playing that late night in Minho's model hums softly inside the living room, then Seungyoon remembers it.

That small second he spotted Minho peeking at his face. Probably his mouth.

_it's always to say why don't you take your heart out_  
_instead of living in your head_

"Definitely not, hyung," Seungyoon says instead.

*

"Just kiss him, Minho," Jinwoo suggests, setting down the plates. "Nothing fancy. Then laugh it off and say something like weird experiments."

"Please shut up, hyung," Minho mutters, sullen and stupid. "Seungyoon probably thinks I am insane."

"Oh, he won't. Bless him, he won't."

Minho turns towards him with a confused look, hearing that edge in Jinwoo's voice. It's something they developed over time—the ability to detect the 'I-know-something-and-I-ain't-gonna-tell-you-yet' tone.

Jinwoo smiles, an angel in Minho's self-made purgatory. "You won't know if you try, Minho."

"Did Seunghoon-hyung voodoo on you or something?"

Jinwoo blinks. "Why would he?"

Yes, Jinwoo definitely knows something he won't tell Minho. Yet.

*

_on this night, and in this light_  
_i think i'm falling (i think i'm falling)_  
_i'm falling for you_

Minho quickly clicks the (next) button.

It just can't be. Wanting to kiss Seungyoon?

Wanting Seungyoon?

Minho pauses, then takes a glance at his painting of the lips he'd like to kiss.

Maybe.

*

When Seungyoon asks Minho out of simple curiosity, he gets no decent response.

But a, "Love. You know. Kisses. Stuff like that." A very curt response, trying to play safe.

[ Seungyoon finds him cute as Minho scrambles for his answer. He knows what Minho seems to want to say. Or maybe he just guessed wrong? ]

"Minho, you could've just drawn a silhouette of lovers holding hands. Or kissing," Seungyoon rolls his eyes, biting back a smile.

"What an ordinary concept, Kang Seungyoon," Minho replies absently, thoughts entering in his mind. Lovers holding hands. Dates. Photo dates. Shopping dates.

Kissing Seungyoon.

"But maybe those pair of lips aren't a bad idea," Seungyoon assents. "And a pouting pair, at that."

Minho doesn't answer, lost in his thoughts. Maybe Jinwoo knew all along of his thoughts after that damn radio show. Or maybe Seunghoon shared his crazy theories to him and Jinwoo just went along with it.

Or maybe Minho, for the love of galaxies, knew all along and just denied it. 

Seungyoon notices Minho's preoccupation and pulls the rapper's sleeve. "Ya, Minho, is your head flying within the Milky Way again?"

Not really. Just imagining things. Like trying to know if your lips are like strawberries. Or peaches?

_why don't you figure my heart out (hey)_

Seungyoon pouts, trying to act cute just to get attention. "Minho-hyuuuuuung."

Minho forgets his inhibitions. He dives down for a quick kiss on Seungyoon's lips.

Soft. Light. Sweeter than strawberries. Better than feeling them against his forehead.

Seungyoon's eyes widen in shock.Or in utter disbelief. He doesn't even respond when Minho kissed him.

But the pink blush across his cheeks is a dead giveaway.

Minho is speechless. Dumbfounded. As if he splashed himself with cold water. 

"Uh...um…" the rapper stammers, feeling his face heat up furiously and heart thunder in his chest. An endless litany of _shit shit shit shit shit shit_ echoes through his brain.

"...huh." Seungyoon blinks, staring blankly at the flustered Minho.

_and i always wanna dieeeeee sometiiiiimes_

Minho wants to run away. Scamper off his studio and lock himself in his dorm forever. Or at least a UFO pop out of nowhere and just suck him out of the planet Earth.

"Uh...ahaha...yeah…" Minho mumbles helplessly, looking away from Seungyoon. He feels clammy and stupid—

and he feels a kiss on the corner of his lips.

And he sees a smirking Seungyoon.

"You should've told me if you wanted to try kissing me, Minho," he says. "It's not as if I wouldn't mind."

Soft pink. Soft pink lips. Soft pink lips against his own.

This time, with all the remaining courage in his system, he kisses Seungyoon once more—

And more. 

More kisses. 

With laughter and "I always knew you always wanted to kiss me, Song Minho," and "Shut up." in between.

**Author's Note:**

> I call this my very own 'legend of the lips painting.' LOL
> 
> Also yes I kinda flexed my love for The 1975 LMAO. I am so sorry~
> 
> [ songs used:  
•falling for you  
•She's American  
•I Always Wanna Die (sometimes)  
•Heart Out ]
> 
> Hopefully this won't be my final fic before I go back to the review life for a long while.


End file.
